


Soriku Drabbles

by qinnamon



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 05:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12247878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qinnamon/pseuds/qinnamon
Summary: Soriku drabbles of all kinds. Short and following a prompt. No regular updating schedule.





	Soriku Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to get out a bigger one shot for my girlfriend’s birthday, but I got a little distracted. These drabbles are supposed to tide over until I manage to get that finished, which could take well over a week.
> 
> Hope you enjoy these anyway!
> 
> (Besides, these are… Far nicer in tone.)
> 
> Note: Some of these are not the best writing. I'll definitely write better and more in the future and update this with other chapters; I've just been out of writing fic in general for a good few years.

**Coconuts**

_Thonk._

Staggered on his rear, Sora stares forlornly up into the palm tree he’d just been attempting to snatch a coconut from. The tree sways, not at all bothered by boys and their wishes — not that Sora expects much else. It’s not like he’s keeping count or anything, but 3 vs. 0 do not sound like good odds.

But then, Sora _does_ have a secret maneuver.

“Hey, Sora. I thought Kairi told you to get that coconut an _hour_ ago.”

Bingo. The boy shuffles, smile wide as the taller one approaches his side. “I’ve been _tryin’_ ,” he whines, but the note of insincerity is present, as if practiced. “It won’t budge!”

He receives the rolled eye treatment _(typical)_ before the other boy moves up to the tree’s trunk, seemingly oblivious to the toothy cast at his back. “Oooof course. Honestly, Sora, I have to do everything, don’t I?”

Some might ask him why Sora never bothered to try a new approach, like climb the tree or do some weight lifting, or even potentially throwing rocks at the coconuts. And absolutely, they are all viable options, and they’re ones that Sora’s considered before, tens of thousands of times.

But then, when he’s watching Riku’s shoulders flex and stretch and his fingers smooth out against that trunk, every little line upon those knuckles of his memorized to a meticulous detail that even Sora would be embarrassed to admit to, _somebody_ has to give Riku purpose. It’s not an excuse, _really_! And truthfully, Sora doesn’t think he _needs_ to be strong when Riku is always there to catch him when he falls.

 

****

 

**Teasing**

“So, Sora, when’re you gonna grow any taller?”

“Oh, _c’mon_ , Riku. I’m not _that_ short!”

“You’re a full head shorter than me.”

“That just makes _you_ freakishly tall.”

“There’s a lot of guys my height, you know.”

“Then you’re _all_ freakishly tall. I bet you bump your heads on doorframes.”

“I don’t think _you_ require _height_ to do that.”

“I don’t need it t’ do _this_!”

In hindsight, one thing Sora is strong at is pulling Riku’s head down to his level in order meet their lips.

Despite that, it counts as a loss for Sora, since Riku’s whole goal was to rile him up in the _first_ place.

 

****

 

**Mastery**

Okay, so Sora certainly thinks Riku is better than him at everything. He’s acknowledged that — he’d have to be a complete idiot not to recognize that Riku will overpower him more times over none.

But he’d be lying if he said that he _isn’t_ feeling a little discouraged after the tenth time of being knocked down when Riku’s not even _looking_ at him.

“Geez, are you even trying?”

A sharp inhalation greets him at that, but it doesn’t make Sora feel any better.

“I really think I’m going to have to go over some basics with you again,” Riku says. “You’re just…not…”

Sora wonders why Riku trails off, until he takes in the fact that his own cheeks feel wet.

“Sorry,” and he quickly wipes his eyes, not for the first time wishing he was like Riku.

“Sora…” And it’s that _way_ he says it, that Sora knows is just reserved for him, and he feels both awful and gratified by it, leaning more toward the former than the latter in this case. Riku hesitates. “Maybe we should take a break.”

“Y-yeah.”

“You know it’s okay, right?”

Sora whimpers. “Riku… I’m — you want me to…”

“To feel better,” Riku says with finality, punching Sora straight in the gut as he always does. Power personified. Sora knows better than to place Riku on a pedestal; he knows that he can bow out just like anyone else, but with Sora it’s almost as if he always knows the right thing to say. “Besides, what kind of Keyblade Master would I be if I just run you to the ground, anyway?”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

Riku’s nose wrinkles as if he’s offended that Sora would _ever_ think he’s mad, and the boy regrets ever doubting him. “You know that’s a dumb question.” Then his eyebrows raise and he backpedals, “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay.” God, how did Sora get so lucky as to obtain a best friend like Riku? He’s already beginning to take his stride back. “I know what y’ meant. You’re right. Thanks, Riku.”

A soft little smile, and the taller teen is picking him up off the floor. “C’mon, let’s go get some sea salt ice cream.”

 

****

 

**Purpose**

Sometimes, Riku’s wondered if he’s just been placed into this mortal plane specifically to protect Sora.

Oh, it’s not arrogance, completely, not _really_ ; certainly, Riku’s far from complaining about such a role. If the glove fits, wear it. He’s always been the stronger, taller of the two, and he’s always been the one to take the first step forward, and he’s always been the one to suggest the more outlandish ideas. It’s fitting, for him. And, well, the little smile that he earns as a reward from a successful save makes it all the worth it.

He just wishes, maybe, that Sora would stop getting into trouble that would bring Riku to sprout extra gray hairs before he even hits twenty.

It’s practically obnoxious to Riku, how Sora will wind up taking it when some asshole squares him straight in the jaw because the island knows enough pain from being swallowed up in the darkness. That whole spiel had been _Riku’s_ fault, and yet Sora had to be some sort of martyr for it? He rattles on about that isolation and trauma. He’d admit to _wanting_ to punch them first, but he down-played it. Like he _always_ did.

One time Riku called him out on it and Sora had the nerve to accuse him of being a hypocrite.

But… All is said and done, and there’s a part of Riku, one ugly part of him that he doesn’t want to acknowledge, that _likes_ the fact that Sora gets into these messes that he has to clean up. Or — well, maybe it’s the principle of the thing. It’s not the Sora hurting part that he likes. It’s the fixing at the end, the beaming that he receives and the sunshine within those deep blue eyes that always manage to reflect the brighter parts of the world. But either way, if this martyrdom somehow disappeared one day, well… Riku’s not sure _what_ he’d do.

It scares him. The one thing that would help Sora the most is the one thing that would stand in the way of Riku being happy.

So he doesn’t tell him. Doesn’t tell him about any of it; about his worries, about his doubt, and especially not about his purpose. Because the only thing that would be worse than losing the ability to help him is losing the ability to speak to him entirely.


End file.
